


When The Morning Light Explodes

by lemonicee



Category: The OC (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonicee/pseuds/lemonicee
Summary: Like, you like like him? Because I hate to go all junior high on you, but there’s a difference. I mean, are you sure you aren’t just grateful that he saved you from your hot, well-hung, rich husband?
Relationships: Ryan Atwood/Taylor Townsend
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	1. I Just Want To See You Laugh, Not Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Marissa who?

The first thing Taylor does is call Summer. Mostly because she doesn’t know what else to do and Summer has known Ryan for years. And, yeah, he was in love with Summer’s dead best friend, but hopefully Summer won’t be thinking about that.

“Ryan kissed me,” Taylor says when Summer answers the phone.

There’s dead silence for about two minutes and Taylor uses that time to file her nails before Summer finally says, “I’m sorry, come again? Because I thought you said that Chino kissed you.”

“Oui,” Taylor affirms. She inspects the nails on her left hand, mentally proclaims them smooth, and switches to the right hand.

More silence. Then, “Why? Was Seth making you play spin the bottle? Because that usually means he’s having a gay day and is hoping that he gets to kiss Ryan.”

“No. It was so my French husband will divorce me,” Taylor answers matter-of-factly. “His lawyer said Ryan and I looked like were in love.”

“Oh,” Summer sighs, and Taylor can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment. “So it was just an act?”

“Technically,” Taylor admits. Not that she plans on letting that get her down. “But then I made him torte, and he liked it. And--” she takes a breath, “And I like him.”

“You…like him?” Summer sounds doubtful, and Taylor can’t blame her. It’s not like Ryan is anywhere in the vicinity of her type. He’s probably not even on the same continent. Which is, she thinks, what makes it so nice. 

Summer’s voice snaps her back to the present. “Like, you like like him? Because I hate to go all junior high on you, but there’s a difference. I mean, are you sure you aren’t just grateful that he saved you from your hot, well-hung, rich husband?”

“Yes, I like like him,” Taylor says primly. “He rescued me and he ate my torte when he could have just kicked me out.”

“Right. So, what are you going to do about it?” Summer asks, and the way she says it makes Taylor think that maybe she’s actually taking this seriously.

“Well, that’s the problem,” Taylor says. “I don’t really know. I mean, short of buying him designer wifebeaters…” She trails off with a hand wave that Summer can’t even see. Which is really too bad, because Taylor thinks it’s probably the best expression she can come up with for her current state of mind.

There’s another bout of silence, but this times it’s less shocked and more speculative, which is encouraging. Taylor puts the file down and picks up a French fountain pen and some computer paper from her desk. She writes Ryan’s name in big loopy letters and then writes hers underneath it. They look good together. 

“All I can tell you is to be careful,” Summer says honestly, and Taylor is suddenly reminded that this isn’t the same Summer she befriended the year before.

Then Summer adds, “Because if you hurt him, I will kick your ass all the way back to France,” and Taylor doesn’t think Summer’s changed that much, after all.

“What I need is a plan,” Taylor says and writes “Project: That’s Amore” across the top of a new sheet of paper. It’s a working title.

“What? Like to woo him?” Summer laughs. “Cause Ryan’s not really the flowers and candy kind of girl.”

“Please,” Taylor scoffs. “Give me some credit. I did spend the summer getting swept off my feet in the city of love.” Not that she’s sure if any of that will help her now, but it sounds good, at least.

In the end, Summer is spectacularly unhelpful. Which is just as well, Taylor decides. She’s not sure she should have been asking advice from someone who went for God only knows how long without using deodorant. 

***

When Ryan opens the door, Taylor knows he’s surprised to see her because he blinks and raises his eyebrows. Otherwise, his expression doesn’t change, even when Taylor chirps “Hi!” and brushes past him into the pool house.

“You don’t have another husband to get rid of, do you?” he asks warily. He’s wearing a black hoodie jacket over a white t-shirt that’s a little tighter than it probably should be and Taylor is overwhelmed with the sudden need to touch him.

She sticks her hands in her pockets and smiles at him instead. “Of course not. I just came to ask you to have lunch with me.”

Ryan’s eyebrows go up again. “Lunch? Taylor, you already thanked me –“

“That’s not what this is about,” she says, cutting him off. “Sometimes, friends just go to lunch together.”

He looks skeptical, so she presses on. “When was the last time you talked to someone who you don’t a) work with or b) live with? Besides me, of course.”

“I –“ he says, and stops. “Did Seth put you up to this?”

“No,” Taylor says, drawing the word out slowly. “It’s just lunch, Ryan, come on. Unless you just don’t want to be around me.” She gives him a big-eyed look, just sad enough to keep from overdoing it, and he relents with a sigh.

“Okay, lunch. But I have to be at work by two.”

“Perfect,” Taylor beams, smiling brightly at him as he opens the door for her. “That’s when I’m getting my nails done.”

***

“Pizza?” Ryan asks when Taylor hooks her arms through his and drags him down the boardwalk to one of the freestanding vendors. 

“The pizza in France is atrocious,” Taylor says, grimacing. “They don’t understand the concept of grease.”

Ryan is still looking at her like she’s grown another head and Taylor rolls her eyes. Partially because Ryan seems to think she doesn’t eat pizza and partially to keep from staring at the way the wind is ruffling his hair. “Do you want pepperoni or cheese?”

“Pepperoni.” He smiles slightly in her direction when he says it and Taylor has to bite her lip to keep from grinning at the warmth that pools in her stomach.

She orders and, when he pulls out his wallet, she puts her hand on his arm to stop him. “This was my idea, I can at least pay for it.”

They walk along the beach, eating pizza and drinking from aluminum cans. It’s nice, Taylor thinks. Maybe even nicer than drinking champagne at the Eiffel Tower. Because at least this feels real. 

“I’m sorry,” she says softly when she catches him staring at the lifeguard stand in the distance. He looks at her, tilting his head in question, and she continues. “I’ve been so wrapped up in this whole marriage thing since I got back that I forgot to tell you how sorry I am. About Marissa.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says, and his face closes off so fast it makes Taylor’s heart squeeze painfully.

She nods and looks down, contemplating her pizza crust. “I know that. I just…” She trails off helplessly. “I’m just sorry it happened.”

“Yeah,” Ryan says. “Me too.” His voice is raw and when Taylor puts a hand on his arm, he doesn’t flinch away.

***

Taylor is sure she’s gone crazy. Maybe Henri-Michel was so upset about the divorce that he had her food poisoned from the other side of the world. Of course, that would probably have ended in her untimely, if dramatic, death. 

Instead, she’s standing at the door of Ryan’s pool house at four in the morning. The sun isn’t even up yet and dew is drying in dark stains on her suede boots.

She must be insane.

But she’s been trying all night to sleep, and all she can think about is how warm Ryan’s arm had been under her hand, how he’d smiled at her again when she dropped him off. It was getting a little ridiculous.

She’d contemplating calling Summer again, or maybe even Seth, but finally she’d given up and gotten out of bed. She’d had a plan at one point, written out neatly, but she can’t remember a single thing it says now. Really, she should just go home. Her mom’s out of town and the maid took pity on her and let her move back in. At least until her mom gets home next week. She should be taking advantage her Jacuzzi-sized bathtub while she has the chance.

She knocks on the door.

Ryan answers a minute later, shirtless and mussed. His hair is sticking up and he’s rubbing at his eyes sleepily. Taylor feels a little dizzy.

“Taylor?” he says, his voice sleep-thick. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. But as soon as the words leave her mouth, she knows.

Stepping forward, she cups his face in her hands and, as the dawn breaks behind her, she kisses him.


	2. Catch a Falling Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's two days later and Taylor hasn’t left her house.

He’d kissed her back. It had taken a second, but then his arms had gone around her, pulling her flush against his body, and his mouth had opened under hers. When the kiss broke, they had stared at each other for a long second, and then Taylor had blurted, “I have to go,” and fled. 

It was, she knows, not her finest moment. 

Its two days later and Taylor hasn’t left her house—well, except to get her hair done. But that was just because she was positive she wasn’t going to run into Ryan at her hairdresser’s. The rest of her time has been spent obsessively reorganizing her room and practicing what she’ll tell her mom when she comes home. Hopefully the whole divorce thing will be enough to make her mother forget that the marriage ever happened.

If it’s not, well, Taylor doesn’t really want to think about that. Moving back in with Julie and Kaitlin kind of terrifies her. Mostly because they’re both a little crazy.

She’d called Summer again, but Summer had just said “God, call him already,” and hung up on her. And after Taylor gave her such good advice about her own relationship. Some people are so ungrateful.

But all of her avoidance techniques go out the window when Kirsten calls to tell her that her divorce papers have just been delivered to the Cohen’s door. Merde.

Seth answers the door, and from the way he looks at her, she’s pretty sure Ryan has told him about the kissing thing. He doesn’t look upset or anything—just curious. Taylor guesses that after a girl makes out with your best friend, she deserves a little closer scrutiny.

“Taylor!” Seth says, swinging the door open wide for her to enter. “My mom’s not here, but she said to give you this.” He grabs a thick packet off a nearby table and thrusts it in her direction.

Taylor takes it from him and studies it for a minute. Her fingers hover over the seal, but she doesn’t open it. Not now. 

“What is it?” Seth asks and Taylor looks up, startled. She’d forgotten he was there.

“My divorce papers,” she answers, and her voice comes out tight and too high. 

Seth nods. “Oh. Why are they at my house?”

“I didn’t know where else to have them sent,” Taylor says.

There’s an awkward silence, and then Taylor reaches for the doorknob and says “I should be…” at the same time that Seth says, “Can I ask you a question?”

Taylor stops and turns back to Seth, trying to ignore the nervous knot in her chest. “Sure.”

“About Ryan,” Seth says, rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “What’s going on with you two?” 

“What did he tell you?” Taylor asks, genuinely curious. She clutches the packet of papers to her chest and watches as Seth runs though about five different nervous ticks before he answers.

“He didn’t tell me anything. Ryan’s just as stoic as ever. I saw your car pulling out of the driveway at, like, some insanely early hour.”

Taylor doesn’t really know what to say to that. She considers lying, but there’s not much reason to, and it’s not like she knows what to do about this situation herself. Plus, there’s no way Seth can be any less helpful than Summer.

“He kissed me and there was torte and then I kissed him,” she says, the words rushing out of her mouth so fast she’s not totally sure that Seth can understand them.

When she’s done, there’s another stretch of silence while Seth stares at her and, presumably, tries to absorb what she’s just said.

“So,” he finally says. “You and Ryan. That’s…wow. Not something I ever would have expected. Are you sure this isn’t some alternate Newport? Where Ryan’s the one that grew up as a lame dork and I’m the badass from Chino? Because this is sounding pretty alternate realityish to me.”

He stops to take a breath and Taylor barely has time to blink before he starts talking again. “Although, I think the fact that these words are coming out of my mouth proves that I’m still the lamest dork ever to dork.”

“So, does that mean you’re okay with whatever may or may not happen between Ryan and me?” Taylor asks a little anxiously. Seth is Ryan’s best friend and his opinion matters. 

“I guess.” Seth shrugs. “I just want him to be happy, after everything that’s happened.”

“Me too,” Taylor says softly. 

Just then, Ryan wanders into the room behind Seth, barefoot and holding a cup of coffee in one hand. “Seth? Who are you...Taylor, hi.”

“Hi,” Taylor says. She can feel her cheeks flushing just from looking at him. That didn’t even happen when she saw her, now thankfully ex, husband.

Seth looks from Taylor to Ryan and back again. “I’m gonna, um, go,” he says and steps around Taylor to leave through the front door.

The butterflies in Taylor’s stomach kick into high gear, but she takes a deep breath and says, “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan says. She follows him into the kitchen and puts the papers down to accept the cup of coffee he offers her. The mug is warm and smooth in her hands and she takes a sip only to choke on it when Ryan leans against the counter across from her. She doesn’t think its fair that he gets to be so hot.

Taylor sets the cup down and smoothes one hand over her hair. Then she picks it up again, just to have something to do with her hands. “About the other night,” she says. “I shouldn’t have just…jumped you like that.”

Ryan looks surprised, like it’s the last thing he expected Taylor to say. It wasn’t what she was planning on saying, either, so she can’t really blame him. “Taylor,” he begins, but she cuts him off with a shake of her head.

“No, Ryan. I’ve never really been a beat-around-the-bush kind of girl, so I’m just going to tell you. I like you. As Summer would say, I like like you. And I know, you’ve been through a lot and probably aren’t really looking for a relationship, but—” This time she’s the one who gets cut off when Ryan set his cup of coffee down and closes the distance between them. 

“This is a horrible idea,” he mutters as his hands slide into her hair and tilt her head up. Then his mouth is closing over hers, warm and wet, and Taylor doesn’t really care that he’s totally right.

Taylor clutches at his arms and tries not to whimper aloud as his tongue slips past her lips and his hand cups the back of her head, holding her in place. Ryan is a ridiculously good kisser.

“What now?” Taylor asks when they finally pull apart, breathing heavily. 

Ryan shakes his head and laughs a little, incredulous. “I have no damn clue.”

Taylor’s still holding his arms, even though he’s dropped them down to his sides, but she’s afraid that if she lets go she might actually pass out, and not in an attractive, Southern Belle way. 

“I think I could fall for you,” Taylor says softly. “But I don’t want this to be something else I regret. I don’t want another Henri-Michel.” She doesn’t think she’s ever felt as vulnerable as she does at this moment, staring into Ryan’s unreadable eyes. 

He doesn’t say anything. He just leans in and catches her lips in another kiss, which is all the answer Taylor needs, for now.

Ryan’s leg slides between hers, pinning her against the counter behind her. The heat of his body is overwhelming and Taylor’s hands move almost of their own accord, sliding around Ryan’s waist and under his t-shirt to rest on the warm skin of his lower back. 

There’s the sound of a throat being pointedly cleared a few feet away and they jump apart in surprise to see Sandy standing there, smiling in amusement.

“Hi Taylor,” he says brightly. “Ryan.” 

“Sandy,” Ryan returns with a slight nod of his head. Taylor kind of wants to die.

They stand there for a little while, staring at everything but each other while Sandy watches. Finally, Sandy says, “Well, I’ll just leave you two alone,” and leaves the room, still grinning to himself.

When he’s gone, Ryan groans and rubs a hand over his face. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Taylor says quickly. “I should be going, though.” It feels a little too much like fleeing, again, so she forces herself to stop and look at Ryan. “We should do something. Together. Soon.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “Like, a date?” At Taylor’s anxious nod, he huffs out an equally nervous laugh. “Sounds good.”

Taylor thinks it sounds like a beginning.


End file.
